The Gay Club Scene (Stag Night) Johnlock
by They Call Me Mrs. Holmes
Summary: My first of one of my oneshot projects. "What would have happened when Sherlock and John went to the gay club?" hope you like it! x


**Something different. One of my new projects, where I will be writing oneshots of scenes from Sherlock. I often think 'what would have happened if...' Enjoy! **

**p.s- Thank you Lockie for all the help x**

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Sherlock staggered out of the pub, grasping onto the hand of John. He fell into the alleyway and leant against the side of the dark redbrick wall panting. John stood next to him, clutching his sides and smiling broadly.

"I can't believe you did that!" cried Sherlock, he too was smiling widely and giggling.

"Oh, he wouldn't notice! Its fine," dismissed John with a wave of his hand.

Sherlock spun around to face John, and leant very close into his face, "You snuck behind the bar to refill our drinks, without paying!" Sherlock whispered loudly.

John giggled and pushed Sherlock away roughly, "Shut up! Do you want us to get caught? We're criminals now!" he too was whispering loudly.

Sherlock burst out laughing, having to bend over and catch his breath before he replied, "We are, on the run from the law!" he yelled. Sherlock stopped smiling, a frown taking over his face, "John. Where are our tubey things?" he slurred.

"I am terribly sorry, but I don't know what you mean!" John cried.

Sherlock attempted to mimic the measuring tubes the men were using for drinking glasses, "The things, John. The things we drank our beer from, you know! The science things!"

"The measuring tubes?" asked John, squinting up at Sherlock.

Sherlock hit himself on the forehead, "Yeah, yeah! That!"

John looked down at his empty hands, "I dunno. Are they still in the pub?"

Sherlock looked down at his hands, "I think so! Go get them!"

John mocked a hurt face, "Why me?"

Sherlock patted john on his head, "You're so little, they won't see you!"

John scowled at his friend, but pushed him off and left they alley to retrieve their 'glasses'. Sherlock smiled and leant against the wall, waiting for several minutes, only occupying himself by trying to deduce the rubbish bags in front of him. John stumbled back into the alleyway clutching the glasses.

"Brilliant! Let's go!" Sherlock snatched a tube from John's hand and left the alleyway. He turned to his right and started to walk before pulling out his phone to check where their next location was. He shook his head and turned around, back where they came, this time in the right direction. John stumbled after his friend and into a taxi bay, where Sherlock was attempting to hail a taxi that had already been claimed.

"Excuse me, but I got this taxi first," slurred Sherlock.

"Mate, this woman got it first. Go find another taxi," the driver beeped his horn several times in an attempt to rid Sherlock off the bonnet of the vehicle.

"No! This is my taxi!" whined Sherlock clinging on by his fingers. John ran up behind him and dragged him off the bonnet, and into a vacant taxi that had been waiting for them.

"You prick!" laughed John.

Sherlock frowned and turned to face the taxi driver, "Take us to the PRIDE club."

The taxi driver turned around to get a proper look at the men in the back of the vehicle, he looked them up and down and raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?" his accent was thick.

"Mmmm of course! Just take us there!" Sherlock commanded while trying to look in control but his words slurred revealing his state of intoxication.

The taxi driver shrugged and pulled out of the taxi bay and began to drive. It was a short drive, about fifteen minutes. The whole journey was spent with John and Sherlock giggling every time they looked at each other. The cabbie stopped driving and turned to face the men, "We're here…." He said uncertainly. Sherlock reached into his deep pockets and pulled out the money for the ride, and handed it to the taxi driver. He didn't realise that he had given over twice the required amount.

He stumbled out of the door and waited for John to meet him at his side. They both stared at the outside of the bar. Bright white lights decorated the brickwork of the building. Through the windows you could hardly see the inside, it was dark yet faint shapes moved about every few seconds a flash of colour would burst in the room. The bricks were painted with a deep purple, and blackboards hung by the entrance advertising the day's cocktail special. Clusters of men stood huddled outside the doors, their arms wrapped around each other. As Sherlock and John walked past them they all stopped talking and turned to face the men. One man stepped out of the group and looked at Sherlock.

The man wore a tight black vest that clung to his sweat-drenched body. He smiled at Sherlock and reached out to stroke his hair, "Hello handsome." Sherlock stood awkwardly staring at the man. The man smiled again, "Save me a dance, good-looking." He then turned away from Sherlock and John and resumed talking to his friends.

Sherlock looked at John questioningly and shrugged, before opening the doors to the bar. The thumps of the music hurt John's ears as he stepped into the club. The duo was greeted by a dark room, only lit by several neon lights that hung low over bars to the sides. The club was clustered with dancers, all of them being male. They threw their hands up in the air and danced to the music in the centre of the club. A sudden flash of orange light assaulted the men's eyes and they winced slightly. John grabbed Sherlock's coat and dragged him to the side to a bar.

"What are we doing here?" John yelled over the music.

"It's your stag night!" Sherlock yelled back.

"Sherlock, don't you realise where we are?" John asked.

Sherlock took in his surroundings and asked, "Why aren't any of them wearing shirts? Where are their clothes? And why are they cheering?"

One of the shirtless men turned to greet the detective, "I'll show you, hun." He gripped Sherlock's hand who in turn grasped onto John's. They left their measuring glasses at the bar, and the three of them pushed through the beating crowd, their hands joined. They finally reached the front of the crowd to a stage, where several men stood, well, danced.

The men wore only trousers and firemen hats, whilst they sashayed around gold painted poles. Shirtless and sweating men cheered and hollered at the group on the stage. All of a sudden, the men smiled and ripped off their trousers, leaving them standing in their boxers and hats. The crowd roared with excitement.

"Sherlock…" John warned.

Sherlock looked perplexed at John, who held his head in his hands. "What are they doing John? I don't understand."

John looked at Sherlock surprised, "You don't know what's going on? Think!"

Sherlock mumbled to himself for a while, before staring wide eyed in disbelief at John, "Is this a…"

"Yes Sherlock! It is! You took me to a bloody gay club!" he roared.

Sherlock spun around on the spot, ignoring the pleasant looks coming from the men surrounding him, "Why are we here, John?" he slurred.

John groaned. He wanted to know the exact same thing.


End file.
